


Family of Choice

by lady_wordsmith



Series: Fire, Faith, and Love (Matt Murdock/Reader) [9]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:52:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_wordsmith/pseuds/lady_wordsmith
Summary: Matt, Foggy, and Karen meet some of your oldest friends. Hilarity both does and does not ensue.





	1. Prologue: Setting the Stage

“I want you to meet some of my friends.” You tell Matt one night in bed. “They want to meet the dazzling Catholic lawyer who’s led me astray.”

He chuckles and kisses you. “Are they all Jewish?”

“Most of the ones I’ve had for ages and the ones you’re most likely to meet, yes. But no, not all of them. Lizbeth and her husband aren’t.”

“Lizbeth?” Matt asks, and you see the name sparks some form of recognition. “Is she a lawyer? Lizbeth Baker-Telford?”

“If you or Foggy slept with her, I’m scrapping the whole idea because she was already married in law school.” You say immediately. “And if it was **you** , your ass is getting kicked out of bed and thrown onto the street naked.”

“No, no, that’s not why I’m asking.” Matt reassures you before frowning. “I think I’ve run into her once or twice, while I was interning at Landman and Zach.”

“If you did, you’d know.” You tell him. “She’s very…loud.”

“Yes, that was my impression. Threatening to sue everyone in the office over a shady publishing deal?”

“Aw, fuck.” You mutter, resting your head on Matt’s shoulder and giggling. “That was mine. Publisher tried screwing us **and** the original author over when some asshole allowed the Russian translation to leak online. It wasn’t even finished, maybe two or three drafts away from being perfect.”

“That would be the one. You’re aware she said-“

“I had more money than God and I could buy and sell everyone in the office, yes. I was cringing in my seat.”

“So were most of the interns.” Matt says drily. “Some of them were trying to guess who you really were.”

“Including you?” you ask. Matt shakes his head.

“No. I had heard of your work before, under your pen name, and I just thought you were ridiculously prolific.”

“I **am** ridiculously prolific, Matt. The more languages you know-“

“The more in demand you are, yes. I’m aware. You’re getting off-track, sweetheart.”

You sigh.

“It’s not a very large group of people. Lizbeth and her husband. Raviv and Tam. Maybe Razi, if she can get the time off and catch a flight. And my sort-of cousin Stefan and his wife.”

“Sort-of cousin?” Matt asks.

“Long story involving my not-really Uncle Durin and _Opa._ ” You tell Matt, who nods. Saying something is a ‘long story’ is often short code for ‘emotionally traumatic shit I don’t want to get into’ between the two of you. “Stefan is Durin’s grandson. We’ve known each other our entire lives.”

“Please tell me he was never one of the guys you told me about.” Matt says with a slight grimace.

“No, Matt, no one tried playing _shadchan_ for me and Stefan. I told you, he’s family.”

“Sort of family.”

“As good as. Besides, he’s been over the moon about his wife since they were **ten**. I have stories. Ones that he bribes me not to tell.”

Matt is quiet but there’s a shadow of a smile on his face.

“We can invite Foggy and Karen, give you some moral support.” You tell him.

“I can handle, what, six or seven of your closest friends?” Matt says, and you gently give Matt a swipe to the side of the head before kissing him.

“You might, but I can’t. I **need** normal people there, Matt.”

“Foggy and Karen aren’t exactly normal.” He reminds you.

You scoff and roll your eyes, thankful that Matt can’t see you.

“Matt, seriously. I’m telling you, I love these people, but they’re all nutcases in their own special way, and that maybe having Karen and Foggy around will temper the whole, ‘meet my crazy family’ feel of this thing.”

Matt seems to be thinking for a second, and then grins.

“Not really, it’s just my crazy family meeting your crazy family.” He says.

You fight a grin, and a few abortive attempts at giggles escape you.

“You’re right. My god, you’re right.” You say. “We **have** to do this now.”

“Please tell me there will be plenty of alcohol.” Matt grumbles, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it.

“Loads.” You tell him, giving him a kiss.


	2. Stefan and Tali

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You share a dinner with your cousin Stefan and his wife Tali before temple. Later, you and Matt discuss your mutual case of nerves.

“Tali. Your husband’s an **asshole**.” You drawl out with a laugh. Tali rolls her eyes at you before taking your wine glass away.

“Okay, the homemade wine is obviously too strong for Sparrow.” She says, hoisting herself up and taking the glass to the sink. “Stefan, dearest?  Your latest hobby is a failure. Look at your poor cousin, drunk off her ass before temple on two glasses of wine. Rabbi Blumenthal is going to have a **field** day.”

“At least she can’t accuse you of being drunk, too, Tali.” You say with a smirk.

Tali puts a hand to her swelling belly and shakes her head. “No, for once I’m not your accomplice in drunken revelry.” She says with a chuckle. “I’m throwing up enough as it is.”

“I thought it was leveling off?” you ask, raising an eyebrow in Stefan’s direction.

He merely shoots you a look of innocence, and you wish you had rubber bands to fling at him the way you used to as you walked to your respective schools from the subway as children. Tali shoots you both one of her Looks, and any battle over Stefan’s lie of omission is headed off.

“It has, mostly,” she says, moving over to check the pots of food on the stove. “But every now and again, it acts up. At least I’m keeping food down now.”

“Good,” you say. “Because I was hoping to ask if the two of you could meet Matt.”

 “Hmm, the two of you are still dating? Your brother made it sound…” Stefan starts, but pauses at the hiss coming from his wife. You shake your head.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s an asshole. Me and Matt are fine.” You say. “Matt wants to meet you. You too, Tali. We’re thinking about having a whole thing.” You want to explain the plans you and Matt had made, but the details are beyond you. Maybe that wine really **was** too strong. You shake your head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “Bring that wine. That way, even if it’s a total garbage fire of an evening, most of us won’t remember most of it.”

Stefan chuckles as Tali brings you some water that you take gratefully. You have temple services in a couple of hours, and had decided to stop by Stefan and Tali’s for dinner beforehand. Stefan and Tali’s young daughter, Hannah, had been excused from the meal some time earlier, having gone over to a friend’s house for a Friday night sleepover with the understanding that she would be attending temple in the morning with her friend’s family. With Hannah gone, the three of you had relaxed a little and lingered over the meal. Your presence at their table was always welcome, but lately Stefan had gotten into a winemaking habit and insisted on serving a bottle with dinner, though Tali abstained for the obvious reasons. The wine had tasted less like the blackberries and cherries he claimed it would and more like rubbing alcohol, but you were no stranger to strong alcohol and drank two glasses with gusto before the wine took effect. Clearly, that had been a mistake.

Tali shoves another bowl of matzah ball soup in front of you. “Eat something, it might sober you up.” she says.

“You sound like my _oma_ ,” you complain cheerfully as you pick up your spoon and dig in.

“Trust me, I remember that **incident** with the gallon jug of swill,” Tali says with a laugh as she sits down at the table.

“Of course you do, you got caught with me and Razi!” you say with your mouth full. Tali sweeps a hand in your direction with a snort, as Stefan looks between the two of you.

“As much as I love to reminisce about your bad influence, Sparrow, I’d like to know more about this evening the two of you are planning.” Stefan tells you. “Can I insult him?”

“He expects it.” You inform Stefan.

“Am I allowed to question his family connections?”

“He’d love to tell you.”

“Am I allowed to mock his prowess as a lawyer on religious grounds?”

“So long as he can do the same.”

“Bring it on, altar boy.” Stefan declares with a laugh as your phone rings. You excuse yourself to take it and leave the dining room, smiling when you see it’s Matt calling you.

“ _Liebling_ , are you checking up on me?” you tease.

“No! “ Matt denies, and you can practically **see** him blushing. “No,” he denies again, softer this time. “I was just wondering if we were still on for breakfast with Foggy and Karen tomorrow.”

“Saturday breakfast is a **tradition** , _liebling_. I would sooner miss temple.” You say with a chuckle. Then you lower your voice. “Are you… you know… tonight?”

“Don’t I always?”

“More often than you should, after what happened,” you mutter. It’s been months since Matt’s head injury, and he has a relatively clean bill of health, but it still gives you pause. Even though Matt’s nights are unlikely to involve meeting a crowbar to the back of his skull again, it’s still possible, or even worse.

“Sweetheart…”

“I’m not telling you no,” you tell him. “Just… Just see me after?”

“Of course,” Matt’s voice sounds soft, and you can hear the slight promise in his words, and it makes you blush.

“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to sober up before temple tonight.”

“Sober up?”

“Having dinner with my cousin. I’ll explain later. Love you, Matt.” You say with a laugh, hanging up and returning to join your cousin.

As you rejoin them in the dining room, you’re suddenly struck by how little your life has changed. Even in growing up, finding love, finding Matt, much of your life has remained the same. You and Stefan came and went into each other’s houses with ease, as though the other’s home was merely an extension of your own. You each routinely checked on the other with phone calls the way your _opa_ and Uncle Durin had for each other, and still made the same (tired, but still funny) family jokes. Stefan had always been protective of you, suspicious of any boy at temple or the endless “mixers” the elder Jewish generation made the teenagers attend, and you responded in kind by being on the lookout against any girls who desired to tear Stefan’s attentions from Tali. It wasn’t, however, out of any romantic feelings on your parts. Stefan was an only child, and you might as well have been, but the two of you saw each other as siblings. For Stefan, you were the sister he never had, and for you Stefan was the brother you had always longed for when your own family bonds came up short.

Of course, Stefan wasn’t the only one you had bonds with. You and Tali could still pass for sisters, even though Stefan was the one you called “cousin.” The two of you had been a tight trio with Raziela in high school, and while you and Tali had taken divergent paths in life- you with your career and Tali preferring the life of a stay-at-home mother to her and Stefan’s daughter (and of course, the soon-to-be new arrival)- you were as close as you had always been. Tali fussed over you the way you remembered your _oma_ and all your older female relatives doing, but all it took was one look or snide comment and the two of you were as thick as thieves and trading barbs or having a deep discussion on some topic or other. Tali was good at keeping you down to earth, and you were just as good at keeping her from getting too settled into domesticity.

“So I trust that you’ll be able to find a babysitter for the evening Matt and I have planned?” You ask them as you take your seat at the table again.

“No, we’re leaving Hannah to be raised by wolves. Or perhaps a gazelle.” Tali tells you with a roll of her eyes and a smile.

You return the smile and lift your spoon to dig into your soup.

* * *

Much later, after exchanging goodbyes with Stefan and Tali and heading to temple (thankfully, sober enough to escape Rabbi Blumenthal’s scrutiny), you went directly home and collapsed into your bed, smashing your face into your pillow and only waking at the slight creak of the bedsprings and dip of the mattress. You smiled and raised your head from the pillow. Matt was settling into bed beside you, his costume shed and thankfully uninjured from the night’s activity.

“Hey, you.” You murmur, sitting up and greeting Matt with a kiss. Matt returns it briefly, but pulls away and sniffs at the air.

“Why do you smell like rubbing alcohol?” he asks.

You snort-laugh and wipe at your mouth only a little self-consciously. “You shouldn’t even smell that, it was hours ago. Besides, I was **told** it was wine.” You tell him.

“Clearly, it wasn’t a very good one.” Matt returns, smiling even through his dry wit as he kisses you again.

“Save the insults for when you actually meet Stefan,” you tell him as the two of you cuddle together. “I have it on good authority he’s saving all of his best insults for you.”

“He bought the wine?”

“He **made** the wine. New hobby.”

“Clearly he needs a better one.”

“Matt-“

“Just an observation.”

“Why do I let you share my bed again?”

“I’m told I’m devastatingly handsome.”

“That **must** be it,” you declare as Matt laughs.

As the two of you cuddle, you notice Matt is a little tenser than normal. You frown.

“You don’t have to be nervous, you know.” You say as Matt looks over at you.

“You keep saying that. It doesn’t make it any easier.” Matt says with a sigh. “It’s your family. And sweetheart, they **are** your family.” He says as you make a noise of protest. “I just… I don’t do well with meeting families.”

“You’re overthinking it.” You reassure him. “Matt, if I say they’re probably as nervous as you, would you believe me?”

“No.” Matt tells you bluntly, and you sigh. You’re not sure if Matt is using his lie detector abilities or being stubborn, but his self-doubt is thick and obvious.

“Okay, if I told you **I** was just as nervous as you, would you believe me?”

Matt pauses, biting his lip as he listens to your heartbeat. Strong, clear, no skips or hesitations. He sighs, in equal parts relief and confusion.

“Why?” he asks. “You know these people.”

“Exactly. I know these people. And I’m terrified they’ll think I’m just fooling myself, that they’ll see something I don’t.” You sigh, pulling away from Matt.

Matt doesn’t say anything to that, but instead reaches out and touches you, pulling you back to him.

“I was always a love-starved kid, you know? I mean, my grandparents were great, but… they could be distant, sometimes. And then, dating… I made a lot of mistakes, and these people I want you to meet pretty much saw all of them. And I’m so damn scared that they’ll think this is just another mistake I’m making.” You tell him, and you feel tears pricking at your eyes that Matt reaches out to brush away.

Matt is silent for a moment, before reaching out to take your hand.

“I love you,” he tells you. “And I’ve never been surer of that, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” You tell him, and he smiles at that.

“Then… Let’s let that be enough, when I meet them. Anything else is just… noise. From both of us.”

You nod, and the two of you settle back down in bed together, maybe a little surer of things than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- _Oma_ and _Opa_ : See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6256051#work_endnotes).  
> \- _Liebling_ : See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6569062#work_endnotes).  
> \- "Or perhaps a gazelle": reference to [_Hayy ibn Yaqdhan_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hayy_ibn_Yaqdhan).  
>  \- At some point, I had detailed notes concerning the education of the Reader Character and her assorted friends. No idea where all that went, but I do remember that the Reader and her female Jewish friends (such as Tali and Raziela) attended a private all-girls Jewish school as children while her male Jewish friends (such as Stefan, Raviv, and Tam) attended a similar all-boys school close by. I _think_ the schools were meant to be Bais Yakov Of Khal Adas Yereim (for the girls) and Talmud Torah Dnitra (for the boys), which are actual Jewish private schools located in Brooklyn, hence the line about shooting rubber bands at each other on the way to separate schools.


	3. International Lady of Mystery (Raziela)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raziela calls you from Israel. You can never tell if she's serious or not. Either way, it's best to avoid an international incident, yes?

The blaring ringtone of your phone startles you awake, but one glance at your alarm clock makes you frown and sigh as you turn and grab your phone in one fluid motion and answer.

“It’s three in the morning here, Raziela. You know this. We’ve discussed the time difference before, at length, in calls just like this. Why, pray tell, are you calling me this late at night?” you mutter into the phone, trying for threatening and falling squarely into “groggy as fuck.”

“Because it annoys you, obviously.” The impish answer from one of your best friends doesn’t surprise you. At least she’s stopped pretending not to remember the time difference between New York and Tel Aviv anymore.

You sigh in mostly mock frustration. “Despise you with the hatred of a thousand fiery suns, you evil bitch,” you mutter with a laugh.

“But really, I called because I just got off the phone with Raviv and wanted to call before I forgot-“

“You don’t forget things, Razi. You’re a secret agent. A spy. Or was it assassin? I forget. ” You joke, lying back in bed with a glance at your open window.

 You didn’t mind the late night call so much, really; it meant you would be awake if and when Matt showed up as he did most nights. Most of the time, he simply checked in on you at night before heading to his own apartment, the only hint he had even been there the fact he would close the window behind him even though you always left it open for him. Sometimes he would find you at your desk, passed out in your chair after working hard on a translation, and he would bring you to bed before leaving. Then there were the nights he would strip out of the suit, bandage his injuries with or without your help depending on whether he woke you with the amount of noise made, and then he would slip into bed beside you, curling himself around you protectively. So no, you didn’t mind Raziela’s call too much.

“Just because I work for Mossad doesn’t mean I’m a spy, Sparrow. And if I were a secret agent, you wouldn’t even know I work for Mossad. We’ve been over this.” Raziela says back, her tone as light as yours.

“Right, right. Personal Liaison whatever-the-hell department. You never deny the assassin part, though.” You say with a roll of your eyes.

“We’re all assassins,” Raziela says drily. “Me, my supervisor, my colleagues in the department, the junior intern who brings me my coffee. Even the IT guy.”

“Especially the IT guy.” You remark solemnly, which sends you and Raziela into laughter after a beat of silence. After the two of you have gotten the giggles out, you ask her again why she called.

“Just to say I may be able to make that gathering slash party of yours. Apparently I’ve stored so much vacation time that if I don’t take it, they’ll have to pay me a check for it. Payroll is having an aneurysm at the prospect.” Raziela tells you.

“No one at Mossad takes vacations, though. Didn’t you tell me your supervisor’s supervisor-“ Raziela cuts you off.

“Is older than Methuselah, has probably been with the agency since it started, and has never once taken a vacation, yes. But apparently, they encourage young workers like me to have a better work-life balance. Keeps us sane, they say.”

“Methuselah was perfectly sane the one time I met him.” You remark.

“At your _opa_ ’s funeral, you mean? Didn’t that in and of itself strike you as odd?” Raziela asks.

“No.” you tell her.

Raziela sighs down the phone line. “Sparrow, you are less a sparrow and more some sort of wonderfully naïve creature. Perhaps a baby deer or a goose.”

“I’m sure I am. Now, about this vacation time of yours-“

“I need to vet this new man of yours. Background checks only tell me so much. I would need to meet him in person to make a complete assessment.”

Your mouth drops open and you stare at your phone, incredulous. It takes you a minute, but you gather yourself together to speak.

“You used Israeli government resources to dig up information on my **boyfriend**?” you ask her, still trying to wrap your mind around it. Raziela had always been protective, but this was probably overkill.

“And possibly his business partner and their secretary, but who’s counting? Look, Sparrow-“

“Government resources, Raziela! Not just a typical background check, but actual, governmental, hush-hush ‘this doesn’t exist’ kind of resources! I’m not **that** naïve, Razi.” You groan. “There’s no way Mossad authorized that. You realize you’re toast if they ever do some kind of audit or something.”

“Who said it was unauthorized? You assume too much.”

“Right, I’m just supposed to believe Mossad higher-ups authorized looking into the backgrounds of three nobodies in New York who are also non-Israeli citizens.” You say, your eyes darting to your window at shadows cutting through the streetlight streaming into your room.

“Maybe. Mossad is a strange organization in a strange country. Besides, they do have ties to an Israeli citizen.” Raziela reminds you.

“Razi-“

“What? You can’t argue you don’t possess citizenship; I mean, you were born in Israel-“

“And yet, I didn’t have to serve in the IDF. Figure that out.” You say with a chuckle. You can see Matt’s shadow more fully now, and then you see him at the window. “Listen, Razi, if you show up, great. If you can’t make it, also fine. But please don’t cause an international incident over the whole business. Now I’m going to sleep.”

“Night, Sparrow!” you hear Raziela say as you click off your phone and Matt comes in through the window.

You put your phone back on the nightstand, click the light on, and get out of bed as Matt removes his mask. “Hello, _liebling._ ” You say as you move to Matt’s side. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing tonight.” He says, reaching out and pulling you close, resting his forehead against yours. “I never knew you were an Israeli citizen.”

“Only by the loosest definition. I was born there because of my mother’s weird superstitions. And I’ve told you about listening to my phone calls.” You tease him, kissing the corner of his mouth and leaving Matt’s embrace to get back in bed. “You staying the night, _liebling_?”

“If you don’t mind.” Matt tell you, stripping out of the rest of his costume. “And I don’t mean to listen to your phone calls, sweetheart. It’s just-“

“Super senses.” You finish for him. “I know. And you know I always want you to stay the night.”

“Not always.” Matt says back with a smirk. “What’s the word you use? _Niddah_?”

“That’s an idle threat and you know it, Matthew.” You smile at him as he joins you in bed, slipping an arm around you and pulling your body close to his. He buries his head in your hair and breathes in, his features softening and his body slightly relaxing against yours.

“Can never be too careful.” He teases you back. “So that was-“

“Raziela.” You tell Matt, and he nods. He remembers the one time you had mentioned Raziela to him, that dark story of yours.

“I take it she lives in Israel.” He says, and you stifle a laugh at how he makes the information he gleaned from his super sense seem so casual. Matt raises his eyebrows at you, but he’s smiling broadly, like it’s an inside joke between the two of you. You suppose it kind of is.

“Yeah. She, uh… Went to Israel after high school, volunteered for the IDF- the Israeli armed forces- and got recruited by Mossad at **some** point in college. She’s all hush-hush about that, the nerd.” You say with a sigh.

“Mossad?”

“Government agency-“

“I know what Mossad is. She works for them?”

“Please don’t make me remember what department she works for. I’m way too tired for that.” You beg, giggling in spite of yourself.

“Okay.” Matt murmurs, pressing a series of kisses from your temple to your jawline. You murmur an approval and slide your hands into Matt’s hair.

* * *

The next morning, Matt has already left when you wake up. Checking your alarm clock, you see it’s past ten in the morning and sigh. After showering and getting dressed, you head to your home office to work on a translation of some letters you had been sent, from a client who thought they were love letters between her parents who had passed in the Holocaust. You always prioritized this kind of work, as the woman was in her eighties and you felt giving her this last memento of her parents would bring her joy and perhaps some closure.

About three hours into it, just as you were growing **quite** sick of the word _bärchen_ , your cell phone rings. It’s Raziela’s ringtone again. You roll your eyes and answer it.

“Wow, a decent time. Will wonders never cease.” You drawl sarcastically.

“Sarcasm is the domain of the idiot, Sparrow. A fool’s game.” She responds back.

“And yet you keep playing with it. Are the wibble wobbles too disconcerting?” Both of you are giggling like teenagers again at your brief word sparring before Raziela tells you why she called.

“I talked to my supervisor. I’m cleared for it. It’s next weekend, right?”

“Yes, it’ll be next Friday, Razi.” You tell her.

“I thought we don’t roll on _Shabbos_.”

“Don’t start. I’m begging you, no Woody Allen shtick, no quoting any Jewish character, no funny business, Razi. Don’t. Ruin. This. For. Me.”

“No offense, Sparrow, but the man dumped you and came crawling back, twice. I couldn’t ruin this if I tried.”

“Prague didn’t-“ but Raziela’s already hung up, and you sigh and give a facepalm.

“Lord, I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit that has probably pissed you off, but please, have all of them behave.” You mutter with a laugh. “Else I may have to commit murder, and we know that makes you flustered and stern.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The time difference between New York City and Tel Aviv is six hours.  
> -"Personal Liaison whatever-the-hell department": The Reader, in her half-awake state. is referring to the Political Action and Liaison Department of Mossad, which works with foreign intelligence agencies and diplomatic matters.  
> -"Methuselah": reference to a dude in the bible who was really long-lived (900+ years, I think?). They're basically saying Raziela's supervisor's supervisor is really old.  
> - _Opa_ : See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6256051#work_endnotes)  
> -The Reader being an Israeli citizen: not mentioned before, I know. Not relevant before. But yes, for the story, the Reader was born in Israel, though because she didn't stay in Israel, she didn't have to do the compulsory IDF service (see below).  
> -“And yet, I didn’t have to serve in the IDF": IDF is the Israeli Defense Forces. It's mandatory after high school in Israel to serve (I believe two years for women and almost three for men, though depending on what they have you do you might serve longer. Deliberate (on my part) error by the character, though: as an expat (not living in Israel) they wouldn't make her serve, anyway. If she returned to Israel, they might (maybe. It's complicated). Raziela herself volunteered, as the story says, and then stayed in Israel after her service was up.  
> - _Liebling_ : See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6569062#work_endnotes).  
> - _Niddah_ : See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6449029#work_endnotes).  
> - _bärchen_ : German for little bear, term for a sweetheart (specifically a big, cuddly dude)  
> - _Shabbos_ : Just another way of pronouncing the Hebrew _Shabbat_.  
>  -“I thought we don’t roll on _Shabbos_.” : Deliberate (by the character) bastardization of a quote from the movie _The Big Lebowski_. Raziela's just yanking the Reader's chain by invoking Jewish characters and stereotypes.

**Author's Note:**

> - _Opa_ : See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6256051#work_endnotes).  
> - _shadchan_ : Hebrew for matchmaker. Sometimes (mostly in the Orthodox communities) a professional matchmaker, but in this case Matt's asking if anyone in the Reader or Stefan's family tried to set them up.
> 
>  
> 
> Probably going to be five or six parts, but don't quote me on that.


End file.
